If He Comes Back, I Won’t Get a Husband: Juvenile Rapist’s Sister

The juvenile rapist’s family is fighting a different battle - one against abject poverty.

A criminal commits a crime not just on his victim, but also his family. A powerful report in Indian Express shows how, even as the city-centric media is hotly contesting the release of the juvenile convict, his family seems oblivious of it, so consumed are they by their daily fight against poverty.

Class III marks a milestone for this family, that lives in Badaun village, about four and a half hours from the national capital. Two of their sons dropped out of village school as third-grade students and the third has just enrolled in the same class there. The eldest one was the “juvenile rapist”, which seems to have been his hateful identity, for the past three years.

The 14-year-old brother gets paid Rs 100 for 14-hour days, enough to buy the family wheat for dinner — their first meal on Saturday. He doesn’t know what his eldest brother, now 20, looks like. He last came home eight years ago, when he still washed dishes at a dhaba in East Delhi.

We brothers look strikingly similar. I hope he looks different now. Otherwise I will never get mazdoori again in the village.

The 14-Year-Old Brother of Juvenile Rapist

The elder daughter, 21, the only sibling the convict was close to, works at an under-construction home.

My brother had big dreams, so he went crazy… like my father. He has already ensured I will not get a husband in this village. If he stays here, I will not get one even in the next 10 villages

Juvenile Rapist’s Sister

The third brother is 8 — the age at which the juvenile ran away from home. Rubbing an open wound on his bare right foot, he says, 

When he came home last, I saw he had chappals. He wore pink chappals and helped mother make rotis. If I had chappals, I would also run away,

The 8-year-old brother of juvenile rapist

The mother suffers from bronchitis and chest infection.

I had bought dupattas for my eldest daughter’s wedding. The year he got arrested, I was planning for her wedding. Today, the dupattas have become curtains and my daughter is a labourer.

Juvenile’s mother

While officials have said the juvenile will be handed over to her, her constant worry is the prospect of feeding an extra mouth.

In the cold, the family of seven sleeps on jute and plastic sacks laid out on the mud floor of a single room. Hay stiched into cloth serves as a quilt, which they all share. The rooms have no doors.

The sister remembers his brother, as someone not very different from other brothers. 

He was chubby and fair. I would play with his cheeks, he would call me dark.

Juvenile’s sister

“He was my only brother who could write his name. He is too clever for his own good”....she says. “He had said he would bring me bangles and anklets. He never did.”